A Thousand Years
by GendryaCaesar
Summary: At Donovan and Anderson's wedding, John tells Sherlock that he loves him. Johnlock, implied Donovan/Anderson. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

The ballroom that Donavan and Anderson's wedding was held in looked, well, simply amazing. There was live music, the band was playing at the front of the room on a stage. A chocolate fountain stood in a corner of the room, and there were tables all around the room and lots of food and alcohol. John hadn't drunk any, he was kind of hesitant to drink in front of Sherlock because he knew, he just knew, that if he did he would give away his deepest, darkest secret.

John Watson was in love with Sherlock Holmes.

Of course, it wasn't really a secret. John had lost many girlfriends because of their assumed relationship and everyone assumed he was gay, which he wasn't. Sherlock was the first guy that he had ever had feelings for.

"Enjoying the reception?" a baritone voice said into his ear. John shivered.

"Quite. You?" John looked up at Sherlock.

"Most definitely," Sherlock agreed, a hint of a smile on his face. "Anderson's very drunk cousin keeps flirting with me. I'm trying to avoid her."

"Sherlock!" squealed a female voice.

"Good luck with that," John said, smirking. This was hilarious.

"Quick, John, help me," Sherlock pleaded.

"What do you want me to do?" John demanded. "I doubt you could hide behind me, Mr. I-Know-Everything, you're way taller than me."

Sherlock groaned and ducked behind the chocolate founded right in time. When the girl had left, Sherlock stood. "Why are we even here? Anderson and Donovan both hate me."

"I have no idea," John admitted as the band began singing a Christina Perri song. John blushed, he wanted to ask Sherlock to dance but he was too nervous. "Um, Sherlock?"

"Yes, John?"

"Would you like to dance, um, with me?" John went a brilliant shade of scarlet.

"You're blushing." Sherlock grinned.

"Will you dance with me or not?"

"It's a slow song," Sherlock observed, and he grabbed John's hand. "Yes, I would love to." John looked down at their hands, surprised, and they went up to the stage. John rested his head on Sherlock's chest and let out a quiet moan when Sherlock put his hands on either side of John's waist. John closed his eyes and pulled Sherlock close to him. It felt so nice, being in Sherlock's arms, and the thought that he might not get another chance to be held by Sherlock for a long time put a lump in John's throat. He sighed.

_I have died every day waiting for you_

_Darling don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years_

John knew he shouldn't tell Sherlock, he really, really, really shouldn't but at the moment he simply just didn't care. "I love you, Sherlock."

Sherlock's eyes flew open in surprise, though John's were still closed, he was in complete bliss. "John…"

**AN: This is not a oneshot, I will update soon. **


	2. Chapter 2

It had been six long, boring days since John's declaration of love for Sherlock at the reception. Each day was the same, John got up, sat around the apartment sulking, and then went to sleep.

"Okay, I've had enough." Sherlock came out of his bedroom wearing a sheet.

"Enough of what?"

"You," Sherlock answered. "This moping around, it's not you."

"And?" John demanded.

"I want to talk about the wedding," Sherlock decided.

John gulped, wondering how he could get out of this. "Oh, yes, the wedding was…great…"

"You told me you love me," Sherlock specified.

There went John's loophole. But maybe he could come up with another one. "Uh, yeah. Friends. I…love you like a brother? That's what I meant."

"I'm not an idiot, John."

"Yes you are."

Sherlock scowled. "I know you didn't mean it in a friendly, or brotherly way, John. I just want to know if you meant it."

"I did mean it," John answered. "I really, really love you, Sherlock. But you're married to your work, and I respect that." John's lower lip trembled, and he turned to make himself a cup of tea and so Sherlock wouldn't see his tears.

Sherlock came up behind him. "John, look at me," he said softly. John shook his head, tears falling onto the counter as he tried to focus on making tea. "John, please."

John forced himself to turn around, and he barely had time to set the mug onto the counter before Sherlock hugged him. He sobbed into Sherlock's chest and Sherlock rubbed his back gently. "Shhh," he murmured.

They stood like that for a long time, and when John finally let go of Sherlock he sniffled and said, "Who are you and what have you done with Sherlock Holmes?"

Sherlock chuckled and John managed a weak laugh. "John," Sherlock said, "I am very conflicted about my feelings, but I promise to be honest with you. That being said, I cannot say that I love you yet, but I would be willing to take you out on a date."

John grinned widely. "You're serious?" When Sherlock nodded he threw himself into the detective's arms again, and Sherlock grinned as well and wrapped his arms around John. "Oh Sherlock, I love you!"

Sherlock laughed. "I believe that there is something more than friendship in my heart for you, John," he agreed. "I'm just not sure what it is."

"We'll figure it out together," John promised.


	3. Chapter 3

"Ready, John?"

"Almost."

It was that night, and John was getting ready for his date with Sherlock. They were going to Angelo's and then to the fairgrounds-it was going to be a perfect night. John was wearing a plaid, long-sleeved shirt and jeans, and Sherlock smiled when he met Sherlock by the front door.

"You look great," Sherlock complimented him.

"So do you." Sherlock was wearing John's favorite shirt, the purple one. John laced their fingers together and they got in a cab. When they closed the door and the cabbie began the drive to Angelo's, John leaned his head on Sherlock's shoulder and closed his eyes, still holding his hand. Sherlock smiled and a warm, pleasant feeling held him as he stroked his date's fingers.

When they arrived at the restaurant, they sat at the same table they had that first night, the one by the window. "Sherlock," Angelo greeted them, handing both of them a menu. "Dr. Watson." He seemed to notice they were holding hands, and Angelo grinned. "Finally calling him your date, Dr. Watson?"

John blushed and Sherlock smirked. "Indeed Angelo, after we eat John and I are going to the cinema."

"Oh?" Angelo put a candle in the middle of their table and left the two alone. John glanced at Sherlock, and went even redder when he looked up into Sherlock's lust-filled eyes. John's glanced down at Sherlock's lips, quickly but not quick enough so Sherlock didn't notice.

"I know you want to snog me," Sherlock murmured in John's ear, nibbling it softly, and John whimpered.

"God, Sherlock…" John closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again.  
Angelo came back then and they ordered, and he left again. "So," Sherlock said, caressing John's thumb, "when did you realize you were in love with me?"

"When I shot the cabbie," John answered. He remembered that case like it was yesterday, how he had felt when he'd seen Sherlock about to take the pill was indescribable. "I knew then that I couldn't stand to lose you, that it would've killed me if I'd lost you."

Sherlock smiled, his blue eyes sparkling, and he squeezed John's hand. "You won't lose me," he reassured John. "I promise."

John's own eyes glittered with love. He did want to kiss Sherlock, badly, even if just a peck on the lips. But he knew that their first kiss shouldn't be a chaste one in a restaurant with lots of people, so he didn't kiss the detective. He smiled, thinking back to their first time here. "Remember the first time we came here?" he asked Sherlock.

Sherlock snorted. "You were so in denial then," he declared.

"I was _not_."

"Oh right, I take that back," Sherlock decided. "You're _still_ in denial."

"Git." John glared at the smirking brunette.

"Oh, John, you know you love me." Sherlock grinned at the doctor.

"Okay fine, I love you. Git."

"Say it again."

"Git."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Not _that_. What you said _before_ that."

John groaned. "I, John Watson, love you, Sherlock Holmes. I love you."

Sherlock smiled, and they ate in silence after that.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

After they were finished eating, they took a cab to the cinema. They didn't get anything to eat since they were full from Thai food, and they chose seats in the back of the theater. Only a few people were there, probably because it was late and the movie they were seeing was a horror film, and the people that were there sat in the front.

John dozed off during the commercials, and the first few minutes of the movie were scary as hell so he distracted himself by kissing Sherlock's neck. Sherlock moaned and leaned his head back, his eyes closed. By the time the scary part was over, at least for the moment, Sherlock and John were paying no attention whatsoever to the movie (John had forgotten what it was about) and they were kissing passionately. John's fingers were buried in Sherlock's dark brown curls, and he was exploring Sherlock's mouth with his tongue. He could taste fried rice and Coke, and he moaned softly when Sherlock nibbled his lower lip.  
"Sherlock," John whimpered, his voice high.

"Shh," Sherlock warned, his words muffled against John's lips, and he crushed their lips together again.

"Sherlock, please," John begged.

Sherlock shook his head. "Fine then, come on." He broke their kiss and grabbed John's hand.

"Where are we going?" John asked, hurrying to keep up with Sherlock.

"Home," Sherlock responded, "so I can hear you begging for me without it getting everyone's attention." When they got in the cab he kissed John again, ignoring the cab driver who gasped, and he slid his tongue into John's mouth. They kissed until they got back to 221 Baker St., and Sherlock managed to pay the cabbie and get inside the apartment with his tongue still in John's mouth. "Oh!" Mrs. Hudson gasped when she saw Sherlock and John snogging, and trying to get up the stairs while snogging. She smiled to herself and went back into her flat.

The moment Sherlock and John all but fell into 221B, John pressed Sherlock against the wall and kissed his neck again. "Mmm…_John_," Sherlock groaned, wrapping his arms around the doctor's waist. "John…"

John smiled against Sherlock's lips. "What do you need, Sherlock?"

"I want you inside me, John," Sherlock moaned. "I _need_ you inside me. Now. Oh God, do it _now_."

"Come here." The doctor led the detective into his bedroom. "Lay down on your back." Sherlock obeyed, and John climbed on top of him and crushed their lips together. John grinded his hips against Sherlock's, and Sherlock let out a loud moan. Slowly, John unbuttoned Sherlock's shirt and slid it off his shoulders, and then unzipped Sherlock's pants and removed them, leaving Sherlock naked under him.

"May I…?" Sherlock asked hesitantly, his fingers on a button of John's shirt. John nodded and Sherlock undressed the blonde. John kissed him deeply, and Sherlock sighed and kissed back, their lips just barely moving against each other. John slowly released their kiss and was about to push inside Sherlock when the detective said, "Wait."  
John immediately stopped.

"I'm scared," Sherlock admitted. "I…well, this is my first time."

"Ever?" Sherlock nodded. "We can wait if you want, Sherlock-"

"No," he protested. "I want you."

"Okay." John kissed him softly. "Tell me if it hurts." Sherlock nodded again and John slowly pushed inside him. Sherlock gasped, his fingers in John's short, blonde hair. Tears streamed down his cheeks, it hurt but it was amazing.  
John noticed that Sherlock was crying and froze. "I'm hurting you," he predicted.

"No," Sherlock panted, drenched in sweat. "Keep going. Please."

"It will hurt in the morning," John informed him.

"I don't care," Sherlock insisted. "I need you, John." John sighed but pushed in farther, kissing Sherlock lightly on the lips to distract him from the pain. After a few minutes he pulled out and fell on top of Sherlock, both of them gasping for air, and Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's naked body.

"I love you, John," Sherlock breathed once he'd gotten his breath back.  
John looked up at him, eyes wide with surprise. He smiled and kissed Sherlock, and Sherlock was surprised to see tears in John's eyes.

"Don't cry," Sherlock protested, wiping John's eyes.

John shook his head. "I love you so much, Sherlock." He hugged the brunette tightly, exhausted, and after several minutes he was asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, John woke to the annoying sound of his phone buzzing. He lifted his head off Sherlock's bare chest and reached for his phone which was on the nightstand, and he opened the new text message.

It was Lestrade. _New case. Can you come?_

_When?_ John typed back.

_Now. Meet me at Scotland Yard._

John groaned and snuggled closer to Sherlock, sighing happily. He didn't want a new case, not yet, all he wanted was to fall back asleep in Sherlock's arms. But it didn't seem that fate was going to allow that.

John didn't want to wake Sherlock, but he did anyway. "Sherlock," he mumbled, shaking his lover gently. "Sherlock, wake up."

Sherlock didn't respond, but he shifted on the bed. John grinned and pressed his lips to Sherlock's. The detective's eyes fluttered open and he gazed lovingly up at John. Without warning he wrapped his arms around John's neck and kissed him deeply, and John let out a quiet whimper.

"Did you sleep well?" John asked when Sherlock ended their kiss.

"Perfectly," Sherlock responded, and John couldn't resist brushing their lips together again.

John's phone vibrated again, and when he picked it up it was another text from Lestrade. _Are you coming?_

Despite all his years as a doctor and soldier in Afghanistan, John had gotten used to everyday life again and he was not a morning person. _Chill out, Greg, we're on our way._

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"Victim?" Sherlock asked Lestrade twenty minutes later.

"The name's Denise Williams," Lestrade replied. "Twenty three, and from her credentials she worked at the fire station.

Sherlock nodded. "Where's the crime scene?"

Lestrade gave him a paper with the address. "Just a warning, there has been severe trauma to the body. Anderson and Donovan are of course still on their honeymoon, so we're two detectives short but still if either of you two aren't comfortable with it then-"

"I was a doctor," John reminded him. "Sherlock?"

Sherlock gulped, though he didn't say anything. "I'll be fine." John noticed he looked a bit nervous.

"Let's go then." John and Sherlock followed Lestrade out of the building.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Sherlock looked quite startled at the body. It wasn't as bad as some of the bodies John had seen, but he was thankful that he had been a doctor. Still, his stomach churned at the sight.

"She was found dead around three this morning," Lestrade informed them as he walked around the body. "Her husband found her. He'd gone to the States for a work conference."

"And when he got back," John concluded, "she was on the floor dead?"

"Seems so," said Lestrade.

"God," John gasped, and Sherlock wrapped an arm around John's shoulders.

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to," Sherlock reassured him.

John's heart swelled with love. "I'm staying, Sherlock. I'm staying with you."

Lestrade cleared his throat, and John blushed. Sherlock bent down next to the body to get a better look. "Got anything so far?" Lestrade asked.

Sherlock allowed himself a few long moments staring at the body, and then he stood. "I…can't tell," he admitted. "It's very…I think that…I need some air. Excuse me." Quickly, he fled the room, John close behind him. He followed Sherlock up to a small balcony on the same floor of the apartment building.

"Sherlock," John began, stopping when he realized Sherlock was crying. "Sherlock, are you all right?"

"No," Sherlock sniffled. "No, I'm not okay. I'm so, so weak-"

"Sherlock Holmes, you are _not_ weak." John went over to him and grabbed his hand. "Look at me. That body was…it was almost too much for me to handle. I don't-"

"It's not just that," Sherlock interrupted him. "Lestrade needs me back at the scene, Donovan and Anderson are out of town, not that I'm not extremely delighted. But we're two detectives short, and I'm too wimpy to go back."

"There's other detectives at Scotland Yard," John said, hugging Sherlock tightly. "Sherlock, you are the strongest person I know."

Sherlock sniffled. "I love you so much, John."

John smiled. "I love you too, Sherlock," he agreed, and he captured Sherlock's lips in a sweet kiss.


End file.
